Genuine Lies

you.”
    “It was satisfying, but short-lived. He was out of the office for the next couple of weeks, trying the case. He won, of course, and began his very illustrious career with my father strutting around like a proud papa with a pocketful of cigars. So when I discovered I wasn’t just late, I wasn’t just out of sorts or coming down with the flu, but I was pregnant, I didn’t go to my father, or to my mother. I went to Lincoln, who hadbeen told by his newly reconciled wife that she, too, would be delivering a little bundle of joy.”
    Eve’s heart broke a little, but she kept her tone matter-of-fact. “Our boy’d been very busy.”
    “Very busy. He offered to pay for the abortion, or to handle an adoption. It never occurred to him that I would keep the baby. Actually, it hadn’t occurred to me either. And I realized as he took on this thorny little problem in his very organized, very dedicated way, that I’d never been in love with him at all. When I finally made my choice, and told my parents about the pregnancy, he had months to sweat out whether or not I would point the finger. That’s nearly enough punishment for a man who had nudged a girl, a starry-eyed but very willing girl, into being a woman.”
    “Oh, I doubt that’s enough,” Eve said. “But then, you have Brandon. That, I think, is justice.”
    Julia smiled. Yes, she thought. It had been the right time, the right place, and the right woman. “You know, Eve, I think I might try my hand at skinny-dipping before I go in.”
    Eve waited until Julia had peeled out of her suit and jumped into the steamy water. She allowed the silent tears to come, then brushed them away before they could be caught in the glint of starlight.
    Warm, dry, Julia relaxed in front of the late news. The house was as empty as it had been before she’d dashed off for the pool, but she didn’t feel so uncomfortable in it now. Whatever came of the book, she knew she would always be grateful to Eve for that hour by the water.
    The nasty little fingers of tension were gone from the base of her neck and spine. She was so relaxed, so purged, she could almost shut her eyes and drift off to sleep.
    But she sprang up, heart thundering, at the sound of an approaching car. The headlights speared through the window, slashed across the room. She had her hand on the telephone before she heard the car door open, and slam shut. With her fingers poised to punch 911, she peeked through the blinds.When she recognized Paul’s Studebaker, she let out a nervous laugh. By the time she met him at the front door, she had herself under control.
    Brandon was sleeping nuzzled against his shoulder. For one instant, seeing Paul in the glow of the front porch light, her child safe in his arms, she felt a longing, a need she couldn’t afford to recognize. Julia shoved the need aside and reached for her son.
    “He’s zonked,” Paul said unnecessarily, shifting enough to keep the boy to himself. “There’s some more stuff in the car. I’ll carry him up if you’ll get it.”
    “All right. It’s the first door on the left.” Shivering a little, she dashed out to the car. The “stuff” included three rolled-up posters, a pennant, an official NBA jersey, a full color program, and a souvenir mug filled with buttons, pens, and key chains. As she gathered it all up, she caught the faint whiff of stale sickness and bubble gum. With a shake of her head she walked back inside as Paul came downstairs.
    “Plenty of willpower, right?”
    He shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “They ganged up on me. If you’re interested, we won, 143 to 139.”
    “Congratulations.” She dumped Brandon’s trophies on the couch. “Who got sick?”
    “Nothing gets by a mother. Dustin. I was unlocking the car. He said—wow, that was rad, or words to that effect. And threw up on his shoes. He’d almost recovered by the time I got him home.”
    “And Brandon?”
    “An iron constitution.”
    “You?”
    On a short, heartfelt moan, he dropped down on the steps. “I could really use a drink.”
    “Help yourself. I’ll run up and check on Brandon.”
    Paul snagged her wrist as she started to pass. “He’s fine.”
    “I’ll check,” she said, and continued up.
    She found him tucked in, still wearing his cap. A look under the covers showed her Paul had taken the time, and the care, to remove the boy’s shoes and jeans. Leaving himsleeping, she went down to find Paul holding two glasses of